Delirium of Diesel
by Can-Cannibal
Summary: Cherry tries to visit the guys, but gets jumped, and badly injured. She passes out and gets trapped in a series of dreams in which Dallas and her own Greaser alter-ego are a criminal duet. It doesn't make sense to her, but for some reason, she loves it.
1. Introduction

Disclaimer: This story takes place after the death of Dallas and Johnny. Everyone's still having trouble adjusting. I don't typically do romantic stories, so let's not really call this a romance. There's a lot of focus on the pairing of Cherry and Dallas, but even if you're completely against that, you can still read this story. I don't even really like the pairing myself, and I still wrote the story. I respect that Cherry turned Dallas down. But the pairing just worked best for what I wanted to accomplish in writing this.

I'd really appreciate some reviews too. Really I would. Don't make me beg. Here, how 'bout this; for every person you tell about my stories, I'll tell as many people about yours. Deal?

Introduction:

"Pony!" Cherry rapped her knuckles against the cold glass of the window. "C'mon Ponyboy, I need your help!"

Ponyboy had never actually gone to sleep that night. He was thinking about Dallas and Johnny again. It wasn't often that he wasn't. He shoved Soda's arm off his chest and leaned over to see the window. She was there alright. He couldn't see her face through the mist on the glass, only the violently scarlet aura of her hair. Throwing the sheets off to the side, he silently walked over to greet her.

"What's the matter Cherry, you know what time it is don't you?" He asked in an irritated hush after he threw open the windowsill. He forgot his frustration after he noticed something peculiar. Ponyboy was very used to seeing strands of red hair entangled on Cherry's neck, but there was a different kind of red now.

"Cherry! You're bleeding Cherry!" She swallowed and nodded, as if it was troubling her more and more to just remain conscious, let alone speak. "What are you doing outside? Git in here!" She crawled through the window, Ponyboy helping her along the way.

He wet down a washcloth and hit Sodapop on his way back from the bathroom "Wake up, Cherry's hurt." Soda yawned and brought himself out of the bed. He made his way over to Cherry, who was cautiously touching her neck with the tips of her fingers as she sat on the floor against the wall. "Here" Ponyboy said as handed her the cloth. They were only friends, and even though he would have liked to, he would have made things horribly uncomfortable if he washed her neck himself.

Cherry was amused by and grateful for Ponyboy's chastity. She held her eyes tightly together as she mopped up most of the blood. "I don't. Like. Blood." She whispered as she carefully breathed to keep herself from panicking.

"What happened Cherry-Bomb?" Sodapop asked as he threw on an old shirt, he was still too tired to be as concerned as he usually would have been."

She opened her mouth shakily, but kept her eyes squeezed shut. "I- I was on the wrong side of town. I just wanted to see you guys, but it was too late at night- I should have known that. There were- there were three guys, they were Greasers- but that doesn't really matter. They were, talking to me …filthy. They were really bad guys, worse than Dally, that's for sure. But you saw… how I was with Dally. I –I wouldn't let them treat me like that. And… well, one of them had a broken beer bottle, and he cut me real bad… They were so drunk…"

"They didn't get your windpipe, did they?" Soda asked.

"I don't- I don't think so. I'm breathing just fine. But I think they got that- that big vein in your throat, what's that one?" Ponyboy was sure she knew what it was called, Cherry was smart, but she seemed to be getting less and less coherent.

"Your jugular, Cherry, stay with us hun." Soda tossed Ponyboy a pillow and Ponyboy propped up Cherry's head. "Who were these guys?"

"No one you know real well. Not Steve or Two-bit or…" She faded off.

"Hey! Cherry! Cherry Valance, keep talking to me!" Ponyboy shouted. By this time Sodapop was crouched by Cherry too.

"She's gunna bleed out. She's lost a lot already. Cherry, are you gunna faint?" Sodapop asked as he tapped her forehead.

Cherry couldn't stop thinking about all that blood. Too much of it. She felt sick. She reached out her hand and touched Ponyboy's face, accidentally leaving faint crimson fingerprints on his cheeks "I don't think I'm seeing too good anymore." She swallowed hard, and her eyes became very misty.

"Is she dead!" Soda was panicking. "Cherry! Not you too, don't you die on us Cherry!"

"She's gunna be okay… she's just…"

Cherry could no longer hear what they were saying. She felt hollow and woozy. Everything went hazy and she slipped into unconsciousness…

Slipped into twisted delirium…


	2. Valentines and Cigarettes

Cherry sat nonchalantly on the hood of Dallas' 1956 Chrysler New Yorker, chomping on an overlarge mass of chewing gum and blowing a large bubble. She tugged on one of her curls as she contemplated whether or not she could use a shower. It could wait.

Dallas had just came out of the convenience store, strutting a little, as usual, and trying to balance a paper sack under his arm as he reached for a cigarette. Because he absolutely could not simply wait until he put the bag down.

"Hey Dal, you wanna give me one of those?" He laughed at her as he squinted in the sun, trying to see her pretty face. He put his knees up on the hood of his car, straddling her legs. She had on ripped tights today and one of those dresses that were supposed to look like a sailor's suit. He leaned over and stuck a cigarette between her lips, with a devilish grin on his face.

"Get off me you deadhead." She couldn't help smiling a little. She flicked her cigarette over to the side of her mouth so she could lean up to kiss him. Before she got the chance a shiny powder-blue mustang pulled up beside them.

"Hey, get a room Greasers!" The Soc in the passenger side yelled out the window. Cherry pulled her face away from Dallas' to shoot the Soc's a dirty look. Dally shut his eyes in disappointment.

"Gimme a second babe, I'm gunna go take care of them." He hopped off the hood of the car, but she grabbed the sleeve of his jacket before he got too far.

"They're not worth the effort. Let's bail."

"What do you have against a little fight?"

"Nuthing, Dallas I'm just tired of this place anyway." She looked down uncomfortably. He smiled thoughtfully and tugged on her hair like she had herself before he came out of the store.

He didn't stop looking at her, or grinning for that matter, as he yelled over. "Hey Soc! My girl here says you guys should go to hell! What are you going to do about that!"

"Dallas Winston! I didn't say that!" She kicked her scuffed boot against his chest to shove him away from her.

Now Dallas was really enjoying himself. He paraded around their mustang continuing to yell at them "She says 'Rot you dirty Socs! Rot!'" Now the Socs were angry, and they we're opening the doors of the mustang. Suddenly Dally turned to look at Cherry, his mouth wide open in mock-surprise. "Hey, look we made 'em mad!"

Cherry jumped off the hood of his car, and her and Dallas ran as far away from the angry Socials as they could, laughing most of the way. When they eventually ran out of breath they crouched in an alleyway, watching the Soc's mustang pass by them.

Dallas was breathing heavy, and he looked over to see if Cherry was too. She was still looking down the corner that the mustang just turned, carefully making sure they weren't coming back.

Cherry had been Dallas' girlfriend for the past 9 months. Neither of them had ever been in a relationship that long. And Dallas was still amazed that somehow she hadn't broken up with him yet.

Cherry was always known as a girl that was not to be messed with. So most guys tended to stay away from her, though she was attractive and that tended to be their only requirement. And most of the low-class greaser-girls didn't like her because she followed her own trends and acted decent most of the time. So a Cherry without any friends to call her own settled in nicely with Dallas' gang.

Originally Cherry was friends with Ponyboy and Johnny, and hung around with them most often. But the more Cherry came over, the more Dally took notice to her. From what Dallas had heard greasers around town say, Cherry wasn't worth the effort. He was slowly beginning to realize they were wrong. He started to see Cherry as a girl who dressed in a flawless grunge rockabilly style, dyed her hair a merciless red, got lost in daydreams, could hold her own in a conversation about hot rods, and really listened to music. Not just because a vinyl record was there, but really enjoying it, bobbing her head along to it with her eyes pressed closed.

He flirted relentlessly. Dally… for lack of a better word, dallied until he was certain he could win her over. It was a difficult task, but he was willing to be persistent for this one. At first Cherry hated Dallas, and wanted nothing more than for him to leave as soon as he entered the room. She wished there wasn't any part of her that was attracted to him whatsoever. It really was against her favor that he was a criminal, because she found that charming.

Then Johnny got jumped, and she saw how protective and willing to defend his friend Dally was. And her verdict was that Dallas couldn't be all bad. And on the night of the high school graduation party the guys threw her, she finally agreed to give Dallas a chance. Well, sort of.

Everyone at the party was a little intoxicated, and she had somehow agreed to play Mercy with Dallas, where you hold a lit cigarette against the other person's palm until they say "mercy". No one thought it was strange that she agreed to play, because they all thought she hated Dally, and would have loved a chance to burn his hand up. Then Dallas joked, (as always when there was some kind of competition with Cherry), "If I win, you have to let me take you out on a date." Problem was, Cherry usually won at whatever it was they were doing. Cherry had never played Mercy, and on that night, Dallas held out longer than her.

Cherry lost honorably, and immediately owned up to the consequence. "Alright. Fine. I'll go out with you." All the guys couldn't believe that she didn't fight it. Even more implausible was why she seemed to be holding back a smile as she said it.

And now, 9 months later, Cherry is beginning to wonder if she might just be impossibly in love with Dallas. Not impossibly because she never knew she was capable of this amount of caring for someone else or anything like that. Impossibly because she never, _ever_, thought it would have been Dallas Winston. But then again, maybe the other use of the word applies too.

Dallas noticed she still had the cigarette hanging out of her mouth. "How'd you manage to hang on to that the whole way here?" he asked her, immensely impressed.

"I just didn't think it'd be right to waste one." She blushed. Then Cherry leaned her head over on Dallas' leather-covered shoulder. "You're just more trouble than your worth, you know that?" He kissed the top of her head.

"That's what my momma used to tell me." He struck a match on the pendant of his chain and offered it to her.

"I don't even think I want it anymore." She took the cigarette out of her mouth and held it in the palm of her hands, wrapping her fingers around it.

"What's the problem baby? You sick?" He asked as he twirled the unused match between his fingers, watching the tiny flame swirl.

"Sick of this godforsaken town, that's for sure. All the stereotypes. Why can't people just be people?" She looked up at him, her eyes wide with sadness and frustration.

"Cherry, sweetheart, none of us like it." He sounded a little like someone trying to comfort an upset child.

"The stupid Socs have more money than they need and us Greasers…" She trailed off, and then she picked up her boot to show Dally its battle wounds. "We have holes in our shoes because we can't afford new ones!" She was nearly in tears by this point.

"Aw, that's nothing. I duct-taped mine and they work just as well." This was Dally's attempt to comfort her.

She sniffled and wiped her nose on the shoulder of her sailor dress. "Yeah, I guess that could work." He peeled the duct tape off his own shoe and motioned for her to give him her injured boot. He worked on it as she continued talking.

"I just don't know what we're supposed to do Dallas." She stared off into the brick wall of the opposite side of the alleyway.

"Why is this bothering you now, babe?" He didn't like when she brought up the "what are we supposed to do?" question. Dallas was the type of person who just took what he got. Sure, he screamed "Screw this!" threw it down and stomped on it after he got it, but he still took it. Cherry was different. She was a dreamer, filling her head to the brim with realities she couldn't obtain.

"…We're trashy Dally. I was about to make out with you on the hood of car you stole! Those Socs were out of line for yelling at us like that, but sometimes I wonder if they're right... Maybe we're just Grease…"

"Hey! Look honey that is not true!" he didn't want to believe it either.

"You can honestly say we have class?" She looked down at the duct tape he was trying to stick down to cover the hole in her shoe.

He didn't answer her for a while. Then he finally admitted, "Okay I have very, very little class, but that's not what I'm upset about." Even Cherry had to smile knowingly about this. "It's not like we're just Grease and that's all we are. I mean, look at you." He didn't say precisely what he meant by that, but Cherry knew he meant that she was more than most of the Greasy girls, and that alone was enough to put her in a softer mood.

"Light another match Dally; I would like my cigarette now… Please." The way she said that amused him.

"Enjoy your cancer stick little girl." He announced as he handed over a match. Cherry lit up and took a long drag. She exhaled the cloud of smoke as she tried to forget why exactly her emotions we're torturing her. Then he handed over her crudely-repaired boot.

_This isn't exactly Prince Charming handing Cinderella her glass slipper, but this Greaser version of the story isn't all bad either. _Cherry thought to herself, smiling despite her less than happy emotions right now.

Dallas seemed to be enjoying his cigarette, as always, but he took it out of his mouth to voice one last opinion. "I mean, it's not like we're gunna be able to do anything about it. The way I see it, we just hafta enjoy what we got, man."

Cherry seemed to be thinking something over. She was haphazardly trying to align things in her head. She was so confused and even the cigarette wasn't helping. In all the commotion in her mind, suddenly one thought hit another, and an idea was struck. "I have an idea." She got up quickly, laughing in the thrill of a bold discovery. "Dallas I know what we have to do!" She yelled delightedly and twirled around, the ends of her dress splaying out. He got up from where he sat and flicked away his cigarette.

"Yeah, get back to my car before those no-good Socs slash my tires."

Cherry was too wrapped up in her own thoughts to worry herself with reality. She grabbed the back of Dallas' head pulled it forward to kiss him. "Meet me back on 95th and Roe Avenue tonight, understand?"

"Yeah sure, whatever baby." He put his hand around her hip. Obviously he wasn't done kissing her. But she pulled away, still excited with her thoughts as she ran off.

Dallas nodded to himself, disappointed again as he headed back to the convenience store. "They slashed my tires, didn't they?" He was fairly sure of that.


	3. The Birth of Something Criminal

Fortunately, they didn't and he could still drive to meet Cherry later that night. He noticed that she didn't tell him when he was supposed to come. Cherry was just like that sometimes. He pulled up, and thankfully she was still there standing around by the stop sign. He leaned his head out the window and yelled at her. "Hey gorgeous! Don't make me run you over!" She flipped him off.

Cherry sauntered her way over to the passenger side and took her seat beside Dallas. "You are so late it's not even funny." She greeted, pointing a finger at him, and this time it wasn't her middle one.

"I can't be late when you never told me what time I was supposed to be here." He reminded her.

"I didn't? I could've sworn I-"

"It don't matter. I'm just glad you didn't make me pick you up at your house. I hate your old man. And I just have this funny feeling he thinks the same about me."

"Yeah? We'll he's not really my favorite person now either." Dallas' turn to give a knowing smile, but this one was a sympathetic, "yeah, I know that sucks" smile. No happiness in it at all.

He tried to change the subject. "So what's in the bag dollface?" She was holding a large purse, covered in moth holes and completely faded.

Her emotion returned back to normal. She seemed really anxious to see how Dallas would respond to her idea. That in itself worried Dallas. She pulled out two strips of black material, each bearing two large circular holes in them.

"What's that supposed to be?" He knew what they were; he just hoped he was wrong.

"Masks. I have some hardware in here too." She pulled out a rusty old sledgehammer, then a yet rustier metal pipe. The last item to come out of that purse was the most alarming. A small jet-black revolver now lay on her lap.

"Great. My girlfriend's packing heat." He told the steering wheel. He turned to face Cherry again. "And just what do you plan on doing with those!"

"The gun is only for emergencies. I don't plan on using it if I don't have to. As far as the other weapons, one of them is for you and the other one is for me. I could care less which. But the point is; Soc's have too much, and we don't have enough. If we do a little stealing, and then a little giving back, we might even things out a little-"

"Cherry, do you know what you're saying? This isn't our job, man. We can make it by just fine. Let's just take care of ourselves for once."

"Dallas, this involves property damage. Crime. When have you ever been one to pass up a chance to do any of that stuff?"She really hoped she was getting through to him. "I have a hammer." She pleaded, waggling the hammer tauntingly.

"I know… And it's really hot actually." He admitted shooting her a sideward glance. "But this isn't about property damage. This has to do with other people. I don't like people, baby, you know that."

"I know Dally, but the only reason I agreed to date you is because you promised you wouldn't be a so self-concerned anymore. And now look what you're doing." She crossed her arms against her chest, the hammer still held tight in her right hand.

He let out a breath, really wishing that breath was full of smoke. He was pretty stressed out right now. "Are you just doing this to feel like we're doing something good? Because people do community service for that, man. They don't shoot up gas stations to shut off their guilt."

"Well I'd say this is serving our community just fine. Greasers are our people. We gotta do it for them. Who else is gunna stick up for these guys? Who's gunna stick up for us!"

This did make it through to him. He understood this.

"What if you get hurt? Baby, what if we get caught? Jail is hard on people. I don't want to see that happen to you. I don't want to see that happen to you like it happened to me." She was touched by his concern. "And beyond that, they separate the girl cons and the guy cons. Do you know how awful that would be if me and you couldn't younno… _do anything_, until our sentence was over! I'd be dying, man!" Now she was going to punch him.

"You make me sick Dallas Winston!" She punched his arm, over and over, but she couldn't hurt him. He ended up laughing. Enough of that laughing and she had to forgive him.

"I want to at least try Dally. There's always a risk when you fight for something, right?"

He thought this over for a moment.

"So what, this is like a "steal from the rich and give to the needy" sort of thing?" He asked, giving in a little.

"Think of it more as like a Bonnie and Clyde sort of thing." Her smile turned playful.

"I kind of like that." He bit his bottom lip and raised his eyebrow.

"Except we'd have better intents behind our stealing than for riches and glory." She reminded him.

"But I like those intents." Dallas whined.

"Well maybe if we get really good at stealing we could work up to that. But for now this is just to make things better for the people we'd give anything for."

By now Cherry had made him forgotten any hesitation. He was starting to get interested in this idea. "Okay, so what are the masks for?"

"This may come as a surprise to you Dallas, but most people don't like getting caught when they commit a crime." She stared right into him as he shot her one of his malicious smirks. "Oh, and I also brought this along." She pulled out what looked like a wig. "My red hair would be a dead give-away. No one else in town has hair this color." She pulled all of her hair into a bun and then stuffed the bun into the back of the wig. It was a cute platinum-blonde bob. She didn't look bad, but she hardly looked like Cherry anymore.

Dallas just looked at her. "The red hair isn't a wig too, is it?" He seemed genuinely concerned.

"Of course not." She tucked a runaway strand of red back into the bob. "Okay, so the way I see it, we can just patrol the other side of town for tonight. Drive around looking for Socy areas. I doubt we'll have much trouble finding someone with more money than they need. We'll find out what people won't be home during the night. We'll see what gas stations are open late, what places have loose security, and what places we'll need to avoid."

"Whatever you say, babe. Let's just hope no one notices a rusty piece-a-junk car with two Greasers inside it driving around."

"I'm sure there won't be any trouble."

What a joke. There was no way to avoid trouble when you stuck out as badly as they did. Degrading stares followed them wherever they went as they slowly drove through Socville.

"God, I wish they'd quit looking at us like that." Dallas said as he resisted the temptation to make every one of those uppity onlookers bleed. Cherry felt the same disdain for their glares of pity and contempt. But she was less likely to make anyone pay for it.

"I wish someone would remind them that deficiency isn't a disease." She said as she pressed herself back against the seat, trying to make herself less visible.

"And if it is, I really hope they all die from it." Dallas responded as he fired a glare at a particularly rude couple who had to be in their mid-forties. Cherry chuckled.

"Pull in on this street." She told Dally, directing him into a neighborhood lined with immaculate houses. He did as he was told, but he wanted gripped the handle of the hammer more than he wanted to grip the steering wheel. This place was setting him on edge. Which made Cherry appreciate his willingness to even do this.

The street was quiet and perfect and so unbelievably uncomfortable for the two of them. Cherry busied herself by taking notes about the houses.

"What are you doing?" Dallas glanced over at her notepad.

So far it read:

Merrian Street:

1390- Low Windows, sturdy-looking door, high backyard fence

1392- Reinforced windows, fancy car in the driveway, open garage door

1394- Old lady on front porch, don't rob the elderly

1396- More low windows, more fancy cars on the driveway

1398- Socy teenagers live here, and they leave the gate open.

"Aren't you a thorough little thief?" Dallas swooned, surprised that Cherry's dreamy attention to detail was actually going to be put to good use criminally. Cherry blushed, and Dallas couldn't help but be disappointed that he couldn't compare the shade of her blush and the shade of her hair like he usually could. Not that he didn't like blondes.

"We'll survey a few more streets, and then we'll see if we can find any potential local businesses to hit. Then we can get back to our Greaselands." She told him as she scribbled more notes down.

"Home sweet home, huh dollface?" He grinned as he turned up the radio.

After nearly 45-minutes of recording the security of most the houses around the south side of Tulsa, Cherry and Dallas finally made their way onto Main Street, to analyze the businesses. It was pretty late at night when they left their side of town, and now it was even later. Pretentious forty-year-old couples were replaced by nighttime-loving social vultures. And they didn't look too happy to see Greasers on their side of town. One group in particular decided they didn't like Cherry and Dallas at all. Evidently, the Socs from the convenience store earlier that day.

Their pristine little mustang pulled up right beside Dallas' vehicle as they drove down the road. They rolled down their windows and shouted loud enough for Dally to hear, though he was trying to ignore them. "Can't get rid of you guys now can we? You Greasers are like a rash, you know that?" The Socs laughed at their own joke and threw some wadded up garbage at Dallas' window. "Nah, nah, I'm sorry I didn't mean that… What I meant to say was trash! You Greasers are like trash!"

"Don't mind them Dallas. Just drive." Cherry warned, sensing the apprehension that was tightening Dallas' entire body up.

"Why can't I just teach them some manners?"

"From the man who doesn't have any? That hardly seems like you Dally." She countered.

But when they pulled up to a stoplight, Dallas had to do something. "You still have that pipe, baby?"

"Don't." She thought it over for a moment. "Okay, just a little. That car is way too nice." She handed over the pipe as he rolled down his own window. Right as the light turned green Dallas flicked the pipe out of his open window and scraped it against the gleaming paint of the Soc's mustang. And promptly drove away.

"Get those no-good Greasers!" One of them yelled, obviously outraged. They revved up their engine and cut off Dallas so he couldn't drive any farther. Then two of them came out and stood outside both Cherry and Dallas' door.

"Oh no." Cherry whispered.

"Get out of the car you goddamned grease!" One of them yelled; the one on Dallas' side of the beat-up Chrysler.

"I don't know if you want to do that, man." Dallas responded calmly.

The Soc stepped back, maybe preparing to smash Dallas' window, but then hesitating as if he thought better of it. No, like he suddenly thought of something better to do.

"This girl of yours. This girl here. Are you, uhh… paying her for her services?" He laughed malevolently at his own joke again.

"Hey man, it's not like that!" Dallas shouted, suddenly furious and defensive of both his dignity and Cherry's. Cherry was just trying to ignore them. And fight back angry tears.

"Cause she's real pretty you know. And I've got some friends who could pay that little moll a lot more than a Greaser like you ever could!-"

"That's it!" Dallas screeched as he threw open the door of his car, hard enough to knock the wind out of the Soc who was leaning on it. Then he kicked him hard in the knees, until the Soc was doubled over in pain. Unfortunately, his friend was right behind him, and he had an elbow that really did some damage on Dallas' left cheekbone. They fought like that for a while, two against one, until suddenly one of the Socs' eyes went blank and he fell forward.

He had been kicked in the back of the head. And the only person behind him was Cherry, standing on the hood of Dallas' car. She had re-duct-taped her boot, and this time she hid some chunks of metal under the tape in the toe of it. That one boot of hers was now a weapon on its own. And Cherry was just as surprised as Dally was, as he stared, mesmerized, up at his girlfriend with the collar of one of the Soc's shirt still in his hand. The other hand was balled up into a fist that he had been planning to smash right into the Soc's nose until he saw her.

Dallas slammed Socy's face against the door of his mustang and left him there lying on the ground. There were two more guys in the back seat, but at this point they were just hoping Cherry and Dallas wouldn't know they were in there.

"Forget class Blondie, you are the best delinquent I have ever met, and that's saying something for as many as I know. For what it's worth; I'm impressed." He motioned her over, and she hopped off the hood into his arms for him to carry her over to her side of the car.

"That's a real nice thing to say Dal. You've got me tearing up." She examined the fresh mark on his cheekbone. "And I hope that injury you have there bruises. You know I like the way they look on your face." She said, lightly kissing the mark. He smirked and put her back in her seat.

"I have a feeling this one is gunna bruise." He informed her on the injury's status. He could almost already feel the mark filling with tints of nasty yellow and deep plum.

It took the whole ride home before Cherry spoke again.

"Hey Dally? Thanks for stickin' up for me back there."

"Nah, I just wanted an excuse to beat up those…" He stopped himself before he finished with a cuss, seeing how each word he had just said seemed to dishearten Cherry. "Don't mention it." He cleared his throat. Dallas still thought he was allergic to being polite.

"Well… Maybe tomorrow we can make some plans for the heists we'll be doing. I appreciate you doing this."

He didn't say anything. She had almost shut the car door before he spoke up. "Younno Cherry, I think you're a bad influence on me." He said, almost quietly.

"Me?" Looking at this relationship you definitely would expect Dallas to be the bad influence out of the two of them.

"Yeah. I mean, I thought I was getting real good at only looking out for myself. It took a while to get like that too. Now you have me, I don't know, caring and stuff. I don't know what I'm gunna do. How dare you Cherry." Dallas wasn't trying to be cute when he said this. He honestly meant what he said.

He really wished he didn't have to care about Cherry. She was the last thing he needed. When he had flirted with her before, he didn't expect to actually fall in love with the girl. But as fate would have it, it happened. And now he was just as vulnerable as he hoped he'd never have to be. At least when it came to the redhead hanging onto the door of his car right then.

Cherry was still just looking at him. Dally had a bad feeling she was savoring what he had just said.

She didn't want to end the night like this, she was just too full of emotions that if she merely slept on them, she'd probably wake up with some kind of emotional hangover. She had the thrill of a fight embedded in her right now, a feeling she had grown to love. She had the gnawing anticipation of her latest plan to better the Greaser community. And now she was sharing an oddly sentimental moment with Dally, someone she didn't get "sentimental" out of often.

She opened Dallas' door, took his hand and led him out of his car. "Be real quiet and we won't wake my parents up."

Dallas was surprised. He knew Cherry, and it wasn't ever her that initiated these kinds of things their relationship. He wondered what was different about her. He almost laughed out loud when he figured it out.

"Cherry, you really should wear that wig more often." She stifled a chuckle as she snuck through her front door, Dallas right behind her. It was something about putting on an alternate persona that could always make you feel more daring.


	4. Don't Belong

"Dallas! Wake up! Come on! My mom'll be up here any second!" She shoved Dallas' chest, hard.

"What! Where…where are we?" He asked drowsily; barely awake.

"My house stupid. Now get up; I hafta get to work. I'm gunna be late." She told him, pulling on her uniform. Cherry was a carhop down at the local drive-in restaurant. She tossed him his shirt. It hit him in the face and he woke up a little more. "Take the window to get outside. Don't let them see your car."

"No 'Good morning Dallas'?" He laughed.

She grabbed her rollerskates, slung them over her shoulder, and gave him a proper wake-up call before she walked out her bedroom door. "Good morning. I hope you slept well. Now stay out of trouble. If you need any help, be sure to let me know. Unfortunately the waffle-maker is broken; otherwise I'd fully invite you to go have breakfast with my parents. " She told him like a perfectly hospitable hostess.

"Whatever you say baby." She had already left. Dallas pulled on his shirt, buttoned up his pants and crawled out the window. He sat on her roof, greasing back his hair as part of his morning ritual before jumping down to the ground and walking over to his car. Her parents had probably seen Dallas through the window. Like he had mentioned, he didn't like Cherry's strict unloving parents, so he didn't care if they knew. He had half an inclination to wave at them.

Dallas didn't have a particularly good place to go. Cherry was the only one between the two of them that could hold down a job. So he figured he'd stop by the gas station Sodapop and Steve worked at.

They seemed happy to see him when he pulled into the tiny parking lot.

"Hey, Dally! Hey, where you been man?" Steve asked him as he marched over.

"Hey Steve! Blame Cherry man. She's been keeping me busy."

"Yeah, yeah, where is Cherry? I miss that girl." She was practically a member of the gang herself.

"She's got a job. You know how she is; she wants to go to college and all that."

"Can't understand it myself- Hey Soda, git over here!" Steve yelled over his shoulder.

"Hold on Steve, I'm helping a customer!" Came Soda's voice from behind the gas station.

"Dally's here!"

Sodapop ran over faster than Dallas would have thought possible. And before he knew it, Soda was giving him one of Soda's famous hugs and roughing up his hair.

"Easy pal, it hasn't been that long since I talked to you guys last." Dallas was really pretty happy to see them too though it was the truth. Cherry or not, Dallas was still part of the gang, and he always stayed in touch with the guys.

"What do you got on your face man?" Steve asked him, genuinely confused. Dallas was confused too, and for a second he thought Steve meant the bruise. He really wasn't in the mood to explain why he was over on the South side getting in fights, even if he was usually proud of his battle wounds. He leaned down to look in the side-view mirror of a car that wasn't his.

Cherry had drawn on his face while Dallas was asleep. On the opposite cheek of the bruise, but in the same spot, she had drawn a cherry-bomb in black marker. Her trademark. "That girl must still hate me." Dallas mumbled amusedly.

"Here." Sodapop handed him a rag. Dallas wiped off his face, not caring that the rag had marks of gasoline and engine grease on it.

"Better?" he asked. Now he had a big greasy mark on his cheek, but they nodded anyway. "Alright, great. Hey, what do ya guys say we go find the rest of the gang…" Dallas grabbed a six-pack of beers "…And we bring these?"

"First of all, even friend's don't get to take free beer, secondly, our shift ain't even over until another two hours." Steve reminded Dallas. Dallas still didn't let go of the beers.

"Buzzkill." He countered without wavering. Then he dug some money out of his pocket. "Fill me up with gas and I'll go find 'em myself." As they filled the New Yorker up, Dallas realized something. Something that made his stomach hurt. They'd probably work at a gas station for the rest of their lives. Sodapop was the type of guy that could do that and love it, and Steve would be fine as long as he had Soda, but they didn't have any choice in the matter. This was what Greasers had to live with. "Hey man, take this too. For the beers." Dallas handed them a little additional money. Dallas never paid for his beers, so this astounded both of them.

"Alright, see you 'round buddy." Sodapop told him, mouth still hanging open in shock.

As Dallas drove he was afflicted with a lot of thoughts he wish he didn't have to think about. Dallas was nearly an adult now. He'd like to marry Cherry. But how was that supposed to happen when they had no place to go. Dallas didn't want to grow up. It was fun to be a rebellious teenager in the wrong side of Tulsa, but when you stick around thinking it will always be that way, you just end up a pathetic adult with no purpose. He couldn't handle being a middle-aged man who bags groceries and ends up sobbing out his life's tragedies to a customer who really only wanted to buy milk and go home. He had seen that happen before, when he was a kid. He promised himself he wouldn't end up like that. Of course then the 7-year-old Dallas stole a candy bar while the clerk was busy crying.

Cherry was right. They had to get out of that godforsaken town.

He ended up with his face on the steering wheel as he sat there parked behind an old building. It was all really hitting him. Ponyboy? He was so smart, but he'll never get anywhere. Darrel? The hardest working guy you'd ever meet, but all in vain. He had already addressed the fates of Soda and Steve. And Johnny? God bless the poor kid if he can even make it through the next few years without having a nervous breakdown or getting himself killed. Or, with the way things are going with his parents, kill himself.

Dallas ventured into a part of his mind he tended to stay away from; his own parents. He hadn't spoken to his father in months. He didn't even know where is mother was. Dallas shook his head and pulled himself out of that part of his mind. Pulling himself out of the way of danger and into safety.

_Thing's shouldn't have to be like this._ He thought. Then he put his car into drive and pointedly decided he had to go talk to the other guys.

Dallas felt so relieved to see the roof of Darrel's house coming into view through his windshield when he finally got there. He slammed his door shut and walked through the front-door without so much as knocking.

"Anyone in here? It's Dally." He said to no one in particular as he looked around the house.

His answer came from Two-Bit. "Nobody's home!" He chimed in a mock-female-sounding voice. Dallas shut the door to find that Two-Bit was behind it, sitting on the countertop. He had his hands around what was once a full chocolate cake and was looking up at Dallas like a kid who got caught, well, with chocolate frosting all over his face.

"Are Darrel and Pony even home?" Dallas asked him. Two-bit still hadn't moved. Like maybe if he didn't move Dallas wouldn't see him.

"No they're not home yet." He mumbled.

"So you're just here eating their cake?" Two-Bit simply nodded. "Alright, fair enough. Stop looking at me like that, I'm not a cop." Two-Bit laughed and tore off a piece for Dallas handed it to him. They ate without plates, or knives or forks or any of those needless things.

"So what brings you to the neighborhood?" He asked Dally, wiping some chocolate frosting off his lips with the back of his sleeve.

"Who, me?" Dallas asked him. Of course he knew Two-bit was talking to him, he was the only other person in the room. He was just trying to fill dead air while he thought of something to say. He was hoping he could talk to Darrel or Ponyboy or even Johnny. Two-Bit was a nice guy, but he was nearly as insensitive as, well… Dallas.

He hadn't even thought about the fate of Two-Bit. Probably because that was a bloodcurdling thing to imagine. Two-Bit was kind of a momma's boy, might have trouble moving out of his house, snuck over to other people's houses to steal their cake and couldn't keep his mouth shut to save his life. Dallas had a feeling all these things and more would eventually catch up to Two-Bit. He had a feeling Two-Bit would be someone who ended up soiling grocery sacks with tears. But he still liked Two-Bit.

"Naw, I meant the cake. Sometimes I like talking to it when I get real lonely." Two-Bit told him sarcastically.

"Yeah man, you would." Dallas answered; laughing and jumping up to join him up on the countertop.

He joked around with Two-Bit there for the next couple of hours, shoving the feelings that had been tormenting him back into that corner in his mind. He told himself he was just saving them for later; for a better time. Truth be told he was just waiting for those robberies with Cherry so that he could forget them completely.

So at 5:00 when Cherry's shift ended, Dallas was already in the parking lot. She smiled at the sight of him sitting there with his arm hanging out the window, waiting for her.

Cherry skated over to him. "Okay, so I've been thinking about this all day- I think we can actually really do this Dally!" She hopped into the passenger seat. "I was thinking we could do a break-in robbery tonight. We'll want to start off subtle, so we can get as much as we can done before people start to take us seriously-"He clamped his hand over her mouth to shut her up.

"Slow down, wouldya? I mean, really Cherry, you're settin' yourself up for a stroke." He removed his hand from her mouth.

"Sorry, I guess you're right." she admitted softly, blushing as she unlaced her skates and grimaced a little. "I hate these blisters." She wasn't talking to Dallas now, but more cursing her boss that wasn't even around. "I'm just glad I could focus on this plan thing, and not how annoying my customers seemed to be today." Now she was talking to Dallas. But she always thought her customers were annoying.

"Well, I thought about it a little too to be honest." Dallas told her. Her face immediately flickered with a small amount of pride. "Yeah, I mean, I think this might be just what Greasers need."

"And soon too." She agreed, nodding and leaning her head back.

He briefly wondered whether or not she had even clocked out, but didn't feel like mentioning anything. "Alright, so, to get to what's really important…"

She turned to look at him "What do you mean?"

"Do I get the hammer, or do you?"

"I get it, of course." She was suddenly bellicose.

"I don't think you do." He argued.

"And why not!" She demanded.

"Well you have your boot thing. You don't really need the hammer too do you?"

"The pipe is a quality weapon too!" She tried to persuade him.

"Yeah, and I'm sure you could really make it work for you." He tried to persuade her.

She thought it over. She realized that they really weren't entirely adults yet. The thought made her kind of happy, and therefore more agreeable. "Fine. I will."

He kept his feelings of victory to himself and pulled out of the parking lot.

They spent the rest of the evening sitting in the restaurant's vacant kitchen, discussing tactics and eating cheap cheeseburgers on the sticky linoleum floor. When it finally got dark it was time. They were met by feelings of both hesitation and anticipation. They weren't really sure what to expect. Would they return home with money and triumph? Or would they end up spending the night in a jail cell? Or worse yet; lying there bleeding in the gutter?

They couldn't know until they tried.


	5. The First House

They prepared for what they were about to face behind a billboard over on the south side of town. Cherry christened her wig and tied the black mask behind her head. She handed Dallas his mask.

"Don't make me wear that." He pleaded.

"What if they recognize you? You'll get thrown in jail and I won't. I'll probably grow horribly lonely and find some hot young bartender to keep me company. And I'll slowly forget that handsome hood I once went out w-"

"For the luvagod, stop that!" He cut her off, looking like a man in panic. He grabbed the mask "Gimme that thing."

She laughed as he tied it on. "I knew that would scare you."

"Scare me? Tomorrow, I'm running every single bartender out of town! I might not even be able to look at a bottle of beer the same way again!" He still wasn't laughing yet.

"I give that a week." She knew he couldn't stick to his threat about the alcohol.

They both put on gloves next. Then Cherry pulled Dallas' hammer out of her bag and handed it to him. He liked the way it felt in his hand. He was so ready to bludgeon something. Cherry grasped her metal pipe and swung it around. "I take what I said earlier back. I like this thing."

"So where are we hittin' first?" Dallas asked. She turned to her notepad. She had underlined all the most vulnerable houses.

"These ones. They're just begging to be raided." Dallas turned the engine over and pulled out from behind the sign.

The first house was entirely dark. Cherry had expected that no one would be home tonight. "How are we gunna do this?" Cherry actually didn't know for once.

"It's simple baby." Dallas nonchalantly slammed his hammer into the window, like it was no big deal and just entirely obvious.

Cherry winced as the glass exploded. "…I meant how do we do this quietly."

"Too late now dollface. I'm still not going to be able to fit in that window though." He cleared the shards of glass away with his gloved hand.

Cherry took a deep breath. "Then at least keep guard out here. I'm sure the whole neighborhood's heard us. Just yell at me if anyone decides to come and investigate." She took another breath to calm her nerves and slipped inside the window.

"Hey," Dallas whispered. She turned around and looked through the busted window to see him. "don't look so worried. Greasers are made for this stuff." That actually eased her anxiety a little.

Once inside Cherry grabbed for every remotely expensive-looking thing she could find. She worked quickly and soon her bag was brimming with jewelry and what money she could find. She estimated the bag's contents now valued at roughly $575. So before she got too greedy and the bag got too heavy for her to hold, she made her way back to the window.

Dallas helped her out this time, grabbing her hand and pulling her through the empty hole that was once a window. "How'd we do?" He asked curiously.

She flashed the open mouth of her bag at him, revealing all the shiny commodities inside. "You tell me." She told him. He whistled at the riches in awe. "What about out here? Nobody…" She stopped herself as she noticed the grown man lying on the grass, rolling around and holding his side in pain.

"What happened!" She demanded in a hushed shriek.

"I hit him." Dallas answered simply.

"You were supposed to tell me if anyone came!"

"But that'd be no fun." He sounded innocent enough. Cherry sighed and ran to the Chrysler, Dallas right behind her. As soon as they got into their seats they erupted with excited laughter and giddily examined their bounty.

"I can't believe this!" Cherry shouted, trying on her third gaudy necklace.

"Yeah, I know! These people have some ugly-ass costume jewelry!" Dallas responded weighing an impossibly garish ring in the palm of his hand.

"No, I mean we actually did it!" Cherry applauded. "And I was so sure -"Suddenly the sound of sirens blared behind them and those telltale lights made their untimely appearance. "F- - -." She muttered under her breath.

"Drive Dally!" She threw her own hand on the ignition and cranked it. His engine roared and he slammed on the gas pedal. The police were still far behind them, and Dallas could drive pretty fast. He threw his rusty New Yorker through traffic and alleyways until they were sure they couldn't hear any sirens. Cherry looked like she was about to throw up. It took her a while to even say anything.

"…Dally?" She finally managed to whimper as she clutched her chest. She was sure her pounding heartbeat was making the necklaces she had on tremble. "Do you think they got our plate number?"

It took Dallas a while to answer too. "Baby, this ain't my car. If they did get our plates, it's Tim Shepard that's going to jail."

They both looked at each other and the car was silent for a long while. Then they simultaneously busted into the same mad laughter their successful heist had induced just a few minutes ago. Maybe they were laughing harder now. Poor Tim Shepard had no idea he was a burglar.


End file.
